Birdie Poem by Zyw Zywa

He comes in without a word
undresses and points at me
from his golden locks of hair

with the power of his lordship
the natural armament of men
overbearing and selfish

but an overwhelming pleasure
when it enters me, rhythmically
taking me into ecstasies

making me drift
beyond any awareness
of bodily limits

Afterward, again
the wonder of the birdie
growing

with the slightest touch
of my lips, my tongue
and his desire